


Unburied

by iguanadepalo



Category: Hidden Block (Video Blogging RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Greek Mythology, M/M, characters will be revealed as chapters are uploaded
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2017-05-05
Packaged: 2018-09-18 03:01:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9364214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iguanadepalo/pseuds/iguanadepalo
Summary: After lonesome centuries in the Underworld fulfilling the role of Hades, Ian is surprised when an unexpected guest manages to warm up to him.





	1. PRELUDE

Ian was used to it. 

He was used to the sterile smell of death that permeated every corner with its stench. A few of the corpses sometimes arose, which frankly only made the situation much worse, but he handled it. It’s always best to keep the morgue smelling as clean as possible. Although everyone was accustomed to the smell, it was still incredibly bothersome.

He was used to the darkness looming around every corner, and he was even used to the fact that it was only that way because of his presence. The latter was much harder to accept, but there was nothing he could do about it. The years passed and nothing would change, so the idea of complacency snuck into the back of his head and eventually took over.

He was also getting around to being dead. Now, that one was rough. Corporeally, he didn't look all that dead. The color of his skin remained, and his body did not look like a corpse. However, his expression gave it away. Ian did have a bit fame for looking somewhat stoic, but it was definitely different now. He looked completely dead inside. That meant his face finally matched the way he felt, and that wasn't good.

All of the pent up anger and regret gnawed at him frequently. He didn't hear much about anyone anymore. He could no longer partake in any kind of affair, due to having to stay holed up in the cave that he was confined in. Rage engulfed him sometimes, clouding his reality and making him lash out like a regular Kylo Ren.

Such was the fate of _Hades, god of the Underworld_.

Still, he was used to it.

It's not like nothing ever happened. The job was eventful, but it was lonely most of the time. He had too much time on his hands and barely anything to do with it, except sit and gloom.

That would soon change, however.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings, readers! Welcome to my Greek god AU. I’ve had a lot of fun writing this, and I hope you all have as much fun reading it. I am a trash man and this story is my trash son.
> 
> I haven't written in a long time, so I will be trying into the swing of things gradually. Stick around for the upcoming gay!
> 
> **Next upload: Chapter 1 - 18/1/2017**


	2. CHAPTER I

People came and went.

It was mostly the keepers of each station, who would file in their complaints, making Ian interact with them (to his dismay) and fix whatever problem presented itself. He was often bitter about it, but that was not unusual.

Ian wasn't afraid of letting people know who was in charge. The words still rang in his head from his first year on the job.

"You're not much of a ruler of the Underworld," a tree spirit’s spirit named David snarked at him.

Ian mercilessly tore him to shreds, making sure he couldn't get up again. It didn't change the fact that the spirit’s spirit was right.

Everyone else saw what happened, but what was supposed to be a grand display of power was regarded simply as a childish display. Not any worse than the previous Hades, however. They were both just as unruly. It's probably just a god thing.

Hermes made sure to drop by and deliver the latest news to Ian, informing him about every event he couldn't be a part of. James, the messenger god, had a strange history with Ian. Let us not concern ourselves with that now, though. 

On one fateful morning (not that anyone would be expected to tell, because there was no sun in the Underworld), Ian found himself wandering around the garden. The pomegranate trees were alive, which was nice. The rest of the garden, however, was not in such good shape.

While walking around, he felt a strong presence that felt much too pure to belong there. He concentrated, seeking out to whom belonged such a foreign soul.

_Eros._

* * *

  


Jeff stopped dead in his tracks, feeling a shiver crawling up his spine. He looked around him, but just as he did that he found himself in an unfortunate situation. Behind him was the god he had been told about countless times before. That was the first, and hopefully not last, time he ever saw him in the flesh.

"What are you doing here?" Ian asked menacingly.

Jeff would've been mortified, but Hades looked like a first-year college student. Honestly, there was no way that this loser was in charge of the Underworld. "Well, you know. Visiting."

"Who?" Jeff could've sworn there was reverb whenever he spoke.

"Hey, man, that's private."

Ian crossed his arms. "Not to me."

" _I_ didn't do anything wrong, chill out," Jeff told him. The God of the Underworld really needed to take a fucking break, or something. "Thanatos wanted some love potions, and he paid good money for them."

"Love potions-"

"That's his business," Jeff raised his arms, in a _not guilty_ gesture.

"Why would he want _love potions_ -"

"Again, his business," Jeff said, but then continued, trying to avoid being torn to shreds by the god of anger issues. The faint smell of roses perfumed the air suddenly. "You know, I don't think we've met."

For some reason, Ian didn't look like he wanted to strangle someone anymore. He only looked mildly pissed off, which was a little more comforting than having the much too powerful lanky loser glaring at him. Ian wasn’t too concerned with Thanatos. He often did problematic shit, but as long as he did his job he couldn’t bring himself to care too much. For some reason, he forgot why he was mad.

"No, we haven't," Ian said and it didn't sound like a threat to Jeff's person. 

The entire mood shifted clumsily, but if either of them noticed, it went unsaid.

It was their cue to shake hands. When Jeff touched Ian's hand, he looked up at him quickly, then down at his hand again, concerned. His hand was cold as hell. He was sure Ian didn't even have a pulse.

When Jeff let go of Ian's hand, he lingered inappropriately, removing his hand with no more than a gentle caress to Ian's. It was... strange. 

Ian knew who Jeff was, and Jeff definitely knew about Ian. There was no need for any more formalities.

Jeff looked to the side, frantically looking for something else to talk about. His attention turned to the conglomerate of suffering plants next to him. "Is that your garden?" Jeff asked, grief-stricken.

"Yes."

"No offense, but it looks like shit," Jeff said empathetically.

"Fortunately for you, I agree."

"You want to know what the secret to growing plants is?"

"Not having them grow in the Underworld?" Ian tried to joke. He hadn’t actually done that in a few decades, so he was a bit rusty.

"That doesn't have anything to do with it," Jeff smiled at him, and for the first time years, Ian felt something that wasn't absolute despair. "I swear, it doesn’t. The real secret to growing plants is _love_.”

Ian laughed out loud. An real, wholehearted chuckle escaped from his lips, and it couldn’t feel any better. “Is that so?”

“Oh, yeah,” Jeff reassured him. “I’m telling you, with me around for a few days, your plants will last for centuries.”

“I might have to hold you to that,” Ian told him with a smile.

 _So he_ can _smile_ , Jeff grinned back, “I might have to accept.”

“You’ll come back?” Ian asked him, almost as if he were a dog trapped alone at home waiting for its owner to return. He didn't sound nearly as pathetic as that, but his voice did demonstrate a slight amount of vulnerability. Jeff was relieved. Everything was going according to plan.

“We’ll see,” Jeff flashed another radiant grin at him, vanishing into a gust of sweet-smelling pollinated wind.

Now _that_ was something Ian could get used to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the sake of keeping this nice and civil, none of the gods are related by blood.
> 
> **Next update: Intermission I - 1/25/2017**


	3. INTERMISSION

Contrary to popular belief, the beautiful Persephone was still bound to the Underworld. Centuries upon centuries ago, she ate cursed pomegranate seeds from one of the trees in the Underworld’s garden, which ultimately resulted in her perpetual imprisonment for a specific quadrimester out of the year. This basically meant that she would have to spend four months out of every year trapped in that hellish cave with Ian.

The Underworld was incredibly vast, and even though Ian felt her presence, sickeningly bright in the dull hole they were stuck in, he never saw her on the first year. It was no accident; she was trying to remain hidden. Ian understood why she would want to stay that way, especially after the reputation he had gained barely a year in.

After the first year, he tried to calm down. He became proactive with his work, efficient, but most importantly: quiet. He refrained from stirring up shit unnecessarily, solving every petty problem in the most reasonable way he could. (The anger issues did not dissolve; he just tried to take it out on anything that wasn’t alive and/or an animated corpse.) He did not see her at all during the first three years.

On the fourth year, Ian could have sworn he saw Persephone wandering in the Fields of Asphodel, but her image vanished, merging into the crowd.

On fifth year, Ian figured that at the very least she’d like a room to sleep in. Every other place in the Underworld other than the temple was extremely miserable. He knew that wherever she was, it couldn't be very pleasant. At least at the temple, she wouldn’t have to be tormented by the incessant wails and complaints of lost souls. Other than his own, of course.

Ian didn’t hate Persephone. Maybe a little at first, but it didn’t take long for him to analyze their situations, comparing and understanding them differently than he did at first. Ian didn’t hate her. It was far from that, actually. He could relate to her. They were both stuck in the Underworld because of their bad choices.

Ian called out to her and, surprisingly enough, she came. That was good, because he wouldn't attempt to force her to come and talk to him, or anything of the sort. That would be classless of him. Understandably, she looked fierce and fearful. Trying to keep her distance, she prepared herself in case she’d have to bolt out of there.

He got a good look at her. She did the same. They hadn’t met each other until then. It was going much better than planned, honestly. Ian tried to keep his body language as non-threatening as possible. It was much harder to do the same thing with his expression, because he couldn’t help looking mad all the time. Hopefully, he didn’t look as ominous as usual.

He prepared himself to talk, but before he could say anything, Persephone spoke.

“Gods, you’re so young,” her despondent voice was low in volume, and her eyes watched him with sadness.

Ian shut his eyes in anguish, opening them again in less than a second, and trying to ignore what she had just said. “I-I don’t-- It’s not my-” Ian took a deep breath, trying to keep it professional. “It is not my intention to hurt you. For all of the time that you are trapped here, I will cause you no harm.”

“I understand,” she said firmly. After that, her voice became tinged with sentiment. “Thank you, Hades.”

“Please,” Ian felt another pang in his chest, but he knew there was no good reason for it. Five whole years of it, and he still wasn’t close to getting used to being called that. “Please, call me Ian.” 

She nodded solemnly. There came a silence. Persephone spoke again, pointing towards the room Ian had ordered to have prepared for her. “Is that for me?”

Ian nodded.

“I appreciate that,” she told him. However, she delayed the closure in the conversation. “Ian…” Ian waited for her to continue. “I'm sorry about what he did.”

Ian drew a harsh breath. “I'd like to hear _him_ say that.” He started looking scary again, regressing into his Hades persona. His mind stormed furiously, messing up all of his thoughts. Everything was too fast, and Ian couldn’t lessen the tension of his now balled up fists. 

The raging pressure he felt exploded onto the tiles beneath him, which cracked in one swift burst that bloomed across the glossy linoleum under his feet. Ian willed himself to calm down. He still needed to make a good impression. He couldn’t mess it up now.

“You won’t,” Persephone stated.

In silent resignation, he unclenched his fists. That much was true. His brisk thoughts stopped commenting on the situation, lethargically rolling by without saying much at all. He evened out his breathing pattern, letting go of the anxious strain in his body.

He sighed. “I know.” 

Yet, when he turned to look at her, Persephone was gone. 

She returned hours later to rest. Ian could feel whenever she was at the temple.

Now he sort of wished he couldn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was no sun in the Underworld to indicate the cycle of a day starting and ending. Ian and Persephone, both having distinct agendas, would not sleep at the same time. 
> 
> Sometimes when Persephone woke up, she’d find Ian looking like he was about to faceplant straight onto the ground. She’d advise him to go to sleep.
> 
> Usually, when Ian was running errands and doing his job as per usual, he’d run into Persephone. She’d be squinting tiredly, her eyes still not adjusted to the artificial light of the Underworld after having woken up. More often than not she’d have a cup of coffee in her hands, muttering curses at the cold, and greeting Ian groggily.


	4. CHAPTER II

When Ian awoke from his slumber, he knew there was someone outside of his temple. Right after opening his eyes, he could feel Jeff’s welcoming presence like a blooming flower.

“You came back.”

“H- _Hey!_ ”Jeff was moderately shaken up. He was kneeling in front in front of a bush, assessing the damage, when all of the sudden the dark man himself materialized right behind him with no warning whatsoever, scaring the shit out of him. “Geez, am I gonna have to make you wear a bell around your neck?”

“Sorry,” Ian said sheepishly. he figured that not interacting with other people for nearly a century might have messed with his people skills. “I didn't mean to startle you.”

“It's fine,” Jeff told him, and an invisible aura of comfort and warmth could be felt by Ian. It was still so unusual. He patted the ground next to him, gesturing for Ian to sit down.

Ian did so, sitting cross-legged at his left.

Jeff carefully uprooted a lone sapling that was no bigger than his palm. He placed it in a handful of soil, keeping it in both of his hands, and looking at Ian. “Did you just wake up?”

“How’d you know?”

“Your hair’s all messed up,” he nudged Ian with his elbow. Immediately, Ian’s hand went up to smooth out his hair, but Jeff stopped him, presenting him with the small plant. “Hold out your hands.”

In Jeff’s hands, the plant looked hopeful. It looked as good as a plant could ever hope to look like.

Ian cupped his hands in front of him, and Jeff handed him the plant. Some dirt fell from the cracks between his fingers, but the plant remained. He stared at it intently. Shortly afterwards, the plant started withering.

“Stop looking at it like that!” Jeff chided him. Ian looked up at Jeff wide-eyed, without knowing what to do. “You’re scaring it, look. Actually, don’t look. Look at me.”

Ian did as he was told, mostly trying not to get entranced by Jeff’s eyes (which was certainly strange [read: gay], but Ian tried to give it no further thought).

“Okay, now close your eyes.” Jeff placed his hands over Ian’s. “Focus.”

Ian felt something whimsical about the entire situation. He tried to concentrate, though, retreating deep into his mind. He meditated as best as he could, trying to retrieve something that had been lost long ago.

_Tell me, Hades: can a heart as abandoned as yours still feel love?_

Ian’s eyes snapped open in alarm, looking at Jeff. He still had his hands on Ian’s, keeping his eyes closed. When he looked at Jeff, Ian had forgotten about what had spooked him so much. It was an abrupt change. A faint flowery smell made him focus more on Jeff’s eyelashes, the shape of his lips, and how _soft_ they’d feel against-

“Wow, look!” Jeff’s eyes were open now, observing the plant.

When Ian looked down, the sapling was not only green and happy again, but it had grown at least an inch in length. “That's odd,” Ian expressed.

“No, no, it's good! Good job,” Jeff scanned the plant excitedly, too engrossed in his excitement to be aware of what the growth symbolized.


	5. INTERMISSION

Back in the older days of the newer gods, the roles of The Big Three originally corresponded to be divided among the _Normal Boots_ order. 

These important roles decisively distributed using the holiest method of determining fate: Royal Rock, Paper, Scissors. 

Now, I know what you’re thinking. You’re probably thinking that’s the worst way to pick anything. You are completely right. It’s bullshit. But it's not a normal game of rock, paper, scissors. It's a _Royal_ game of Rock, Paper, Scissors. We just have to accept that.

Shane opted out on the game, deciding not to play. He became an omnipresent spirit, watching over gods and heroes alike. Shane is said to be impossible to reach corporeally, but a new religion that tries to communicate with him and become one in his holiness surfaced. Currently, it goes by the name of Christianity and it has been incredibly widespread throughout the world. Many devoted followers of Shane, acknowledged as the One True God, make sure to try to appease him even to this day. 

Shane simply does not care, for he is merely but a ubiquitous global consciousness.

It was hard to see back then, but he got the best deal out of all of them.

Jirard was eliminated on the first round, receiving none of The Big Three power. He chose not to become an Olympian either, leaving Olympus and living his days secluded in the woods. Rumor has it that he became Pan, god of the forests, and spends his time playing and reviewing lost video games deep in the woods. Like Shane, he successfully managed to avoid any and all godly drama.

On the following round, Jared lost. He was granted the role of Hades, god of the Underworld. He didn’t know what that entailed at the time, but he would soon find out that he got the worst deal out of all of them.

Jon and Austin became Zeus and Poseidon respectively, ruling over the world above.

 _But_ , you may be asking yourself, _how is it that Jared is no longer god of the Underworld?_

You see, Jared was not happy. Being god of the Underworld was not something that gods usually wanted to do. It drained him to such an extent that he wanted out the second he got in. 

Unhappy centuries passed by him, but he was able to find love. The centuries became less heavy on him whenever she was around. At least The Fates granted him that shred peace in the midst of his despair.

A young girl with strawberry blonde hair captivated him. The feeling was mutual, and their feelings developed gradually, and they cultivated affection and respect for each other as the years passed. Even though she spent most of her time away on the surface, they constantly sent each other letters, remaining loyal to one another for years to come.

Still, being god of the Underworld was unbelievably taxing. Jared made it his mission to seek out minor gods and clandestinely meet with so he could make them lust after his astonishing amounts of power.

Ian, back then Dionysus, was tricked with false allure and effectively fell for Jared's bribery. Convincing him was not entirely easy, but Jared eventually achieved so in the span of a few months.

Eventually, a rigged game of Royal Rock, Paper, Scissors was played, set up for Ian to win. 

Ian won and both gods switched places.

The rest was history.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “I’m gonna throw rock, you throw scissors.”
> 
> “I thought I was the one who needed to win.”
> 
> “Then you throw rock and I throw scissors.”
> 
> “What if you throw rock accidentally?”
> 
> “I won’t.”
> 
> “Am I the one who throws scissors?”
> 
> “ _No,_ I throw rock. I mean, _you_ throw rock.”
> 
> “Then who throws scissors?”
> 
> “I do. Wait, no. Let me think about it-”
> 
> “I’m gonna go with paper and hope for the best.”
> 
> “Fair enough.”


	6. CHAPTER III

Jeff showed up on the next day as well. He was exceptionally early again.

Ian made a conscious effort to not freak Jeff out with his inherent awkwardness. He didn't materialize behind him this time, actually taking the time to walk from the temple over to the garden.

Jeff knelt down in front of another plant today, tending to its needs. He heard Ian walk over, turning his head to look at him.

“Hey,” Jeff's greeted him much too casually for someone he had met barely forty eight hours ago.

“Are you always up this early?”

“It’s three in the afternoon.”

“Still,” he complained. There was no semblance of daytime in the Underworld. There was light because they needed to see, but there was no sun that set to indicate that it was time to stop working or to start sleeping. Ian’s internal clock was messed up, and he had a feeling that hanging out with Jeff would feel like perpetual jet lag. He also had a feeling that he wouldn't mind.

He watched Jeff get up from where he was. He stood in front of Ian, holding a basket.

“So I brought some seeds,” Jeff told him. Ian looked at the basket, which was filled with small bags that Ian presumed were filled with seeds. They were crudely labeled, as if it had been done quickly with a marker. “I tried to figure out the landscaping for the flowers, but I don’t know. I think we can just do whatever.”

“Yeah, I guess anything’s better than…” A pause, no gesture. “This.”

“Aw, don't say that,” Jeff said with loathsome optimism. “There's a lot of potential here.”

Ian highly doubted it. The entire garden looked depressed. It was dark and sad everywhere. Not many of its plants were even alive, but the ones that were made sure to express that they didn't want it to be that way by growing too much or not growing at all. 

More than half of it was empty, which also contributed to it looking so hopeless.

“If you say so.”

“You're so mean,” Jeff pouted. “As I was saying, these seeds are really good. One could even say they’re,” a dramatic pause. “ _Special seeds_.”

_Um, okay?_ “Are they magic?”

“Not everything has to have magic to be good,” Jeff said defensively. Ian looked at him. Jeff said the rest in a lower tone of voice, averting his gaze. “But yes, they are magic.”

“They’re going to have to be magic if you want them to grow here.”

“I _guess_ , but you’re underestimating the power of plants.”

_The power of plants_ , Ian repeated in his head, but didn’t say anything out loud. No need to question it. All gods got a bit nuts at some point. It’s normal. Living for too long usually did that to people. “Okay, well, let’s plant them.”

“Actually, about that,” Jeff started. “I have some business to take care of today. You know, important god stuff.”

There was a break, but Ian waited for him to finish.

“So you’re gonna have to be planting by yourself today.”

“Leave all the hard work to me, huh?”

“It’s not like that,” Jeff said sweetly, putting a hand on his arm. Jeff hand slid down to take Ian’s own, which made something inside Ian stir wildly. 

Predictably enough, the smell of flowers was back. 

Again, Ian tried not to think about it, but Jeff was looking at him from under his eyelashes, still holding Ian’s hand. The concept of reality became intangible when the only thing Ian could feel was Jeff’s fingertips brushing against his skin, and the only thing he could see were his eyes fixated on Ian. Gods, Ian wanted to-

Jeff put the basket in Ian’s hand. Ian looked completely out of it, but Jeff asked his a question anyway. “So you’ll plant them?”

Ian nodded, but still looked like he had been hypnotized. He clutched the basket of seeds in one hand.

“Good,” Jeff’s voice spilled over soft sugary words that made Ian feel extremely ambiguous and fuzzy. “I’ll come back.”

With that, Jeff disappeared, but he forgot to take Ian’s yearning with him this time.

###### 

Two days passed and Ian had planted all of the seeds. He uprooted everything that was dead, and watered everything that was still alive.

He made sure to keep the dirt damp and in favorable conditions for the plants.

Having something to do other than Underworld god stuff was refreshing. For the first time in a long while of being stuck in the Underworld he felt lighthearted. He would even go as far as to say that he felt happy. 

Hermes dropped by for a visit, immediately picking up on his change of mood. 

“Oh my, what do we have here? This is unusual. How come you don’t look like you want to kill me?”

“Don’t speak so soon,” Ian warned him, but James was right. Ian’s expression was softer, kinder. It was something that hadn't been seen in such a long time. James didn't know what was causing it, but he was glad.

“If I didn't know any better I'd say that you've finally fallen for someone.”

Ian glared daggers at him, but he still looked nicer than he usually did. “I don't know where you got that idea.”

“So you _are_ in love!” James laughed. “Don’t try to deny it. It’s written all over your face.” 

Ian was even starting to get flustered, his ears turning red. “No, it's not.” 

Ian honestly didn't know what James was talking about, not really. He was sure James just got a kick out of making fun of him like that. Who could be in love with him, anyway? Who could ever love someone supposed to be an entity of evil, destruction, and death?

“Whatever you say, man,” James smiled at him. It was smug, but not as smug as usual. It was almost as if he _meant_ it. Ian knew that was impossible, however. They were mortal enemies, but that was mostly because it was the only way to remain friends without everything getting unbearably awkward. They weren't used to displaying genuine platonic affection and support. It didn’t feel bad, though. “Here’s your mail.”

“Oh, yeah.” Ian took the mail from James’ hands. There was nothing out of the usual. Only work-related papers. “Thanks.”

“See you soon, yeah?” Hermes saluted Ian.

Ian nodded at him, a small smile tugging at his lips. 

After James left, Ian made sure to catch up and deal with the whole being-in-charge-of-the-Underworld part of his job, making sure that everything was running smoothly before he returned to his hobbies. It was a nice change. He usually didn’t like finishing his job, mostly because he didn’t have much to do afterwards. Now, though, he wanted to get done with it as soon as possible. He had places to be, plants to water, and gods of love to fawn over.

Wait, what?

He pushed the thought to the back of his head again, heading to the garden.


	7. INTERMISSION

Dionysus didn’t have many known lovers. He didn’t have many lovers to be told about, but when he did, he didn’t make his affairs public. The ones that were known, however, were known famously.

The only one the gods knew about was Ariadne, which was the prince of Crete back when royalty wasn’t obsolete.

The tale tells of a young Dionysus, which was hanging out by the docks adorned with jewels and precious metals. Pirates on a nearby ship spotted him, kidnapping what they thought to be a rich young man and tying him tightly to the mast.

Ian was honestly amused by all of this. Before they headed out to sea, though, his skin started getting rope burn. He was definitely _not_ into that, so he untied himself with the use of his _magical powers_. A pirate noticed this, and advised for the ship to be turned around, knowing that Dionysus was a threat.

The rest of the pirates simply thought that a mistake had been made and proceeded to tie Dionysus up even tighter (kinky, but he still wasn't into bondage). They headed out to sea. Once the ship was in deeper waters, Ian untied himself from the mast. He turned into a lion, terrorizing the pirates. Large vines sprung out of the water, taking a hold on the ship, but that was mostly just to show off.

Soon enough, all the pirates had jumped overboard except the one who had pleaded for Dionysus not to be kept hostage. The pirate’s feet remained glued to the deck, looking at the lion in horror as he turned back into a man. He picked up a crown that the pirates had tried to steal from him, placing it on top of his head.

“Is that Naxos?” Ian pointed at a nearby island.

The pirate nodded, too scared to utter a single word.

“Just drop me off there,” he decided. The vines untangled themselves from the ship, letting it sail smoothly towards the island. Ian jumped off, landing on his feet.

He gave the ship a _magical shove_ so it could be on it’s way again, waving goodbye at the lone pirate. Ian didn’t see the pirate again, and he wasn’t sure if anyone else did either, but that’s irrelevant to the plot.

It was on that small island in which Dionysus found the handsome Ariadne, who had been abandoned by Theseus on his quest to defeat the Minotaur. He was asleep, worn out with weeping. Ariadne’s beauty left him astounded. Rationally, the best course of action was to wait patiently until he woke up.

This actually worked out better than expected. When Ariadne woke up, he felt comforted by the presence of this young man. Of course, Ariadne immediately told Dionysus all about his noble efforts to save the people of Athens and Theseus. He told his tale of suffered unfairness with a dejected tone, communicating his heart’s anguish to Ian.

“I’m sorry about that,” Ian said with as much meaning as someone can put behind words. He didn't know who Theseus was, and in any other occasion he wouldn't care, but now Ian made a mental note to bring him misfortune.

Ian knew Ariadne was the one. At least that’s how the story goes. Ian felt much more than that. Ariadne was his infinity. Ariadne made his heart bleed. Ariadne made him feel grateful that he was able to live the arduous eternity of being a god, only because he got to meet him.

Ian asked Ariadne to marry him right then and there.

The prince said yes. Ian took the crown off his head, still hypnotized by Ariadne, placing it on top of the other boy’s hair in an extremely symbolic manner.

Their actions may have been impulsive, but after that they lived many happy years together. Unusually enough, their marriage was healthy and joyful. It was something almost unheard of. It was like they were made for eachother.

You know what they say, though. If it seems too good to be true, it probably is.

It was too good for too long. A solid decade of love and happiness was followed by an unspeakable tragedy. Ariadne suddenly became incredibly ill. Ian tried everything, but even Apollo deemed his illness incurable. Ian stayed by his side until the inevitable happened. It wounded him deeply. Upon Ariadne’s death, Ian placed the crown he had given him in a constellation among the stars.

But that was long ago. Ian has had centuries to heal and recover. With each passing year he loosened up more, becoming the careless god he once was.

It is precisely now that we concern ourselves with James’ history with Ian.

It happened about six hundred years after the prince of Crete tragedy, which has been just about enough time for Ian to get over it.

Parties in Olympus were hosted almost on the daily. Actually, that’s an exaggeration. Olympus parties happened at least twice a month, but most of the time is was just an excuse to hang out and be salty. Nonetheless, any time Ian went to an Olympus party, he took it to another level. That was due mostly to being the only one that was able to get booze strong enough to knock a god off its feet.

On a specially spicy party, the wine was definitely stronger than usual.

The party spiralled out of control fairly quickly and to this day, nobody remembers the exact details regarding what happened on that night.

They tried to ask Athena, who responded with minimal interest. “I’m a strategist, not a mind reader. Also, I’m not sure if I _want_ to know what happened on that night.”

James and Ian knew well enough what happened between themselves, unfortunately.

They both left the party, treading along Mount Olympus hand in hand. Once they walked far enough, they eventually reached a forest. They achieved partial seclusion, almost feeling like they could hide away forever if they wanted to. For a second, Ian really wanted it. To hide away, to live alone together, to feel free again.

He kissed James with a gentle intensity, making them both feel different about each other.

A hand on Ian’s chest. It traveled further up, resting against his throat. Ian was sure James could feel his heartbeat, rapid and embarrassing. He tried compensate for it by dragging the moment out, trying to feel everything.

But there was something Ian couldn’t place. Another feeling. It was in his lungs, but it wouldn’t identify itself. He tried to kiss it away, planting his lips onto James, sometimes hard and needy, sometimes delicately. The feeling pressed against his chest and it wouldn’t leave. 

Still, he didn’t want to stop what he was doing with James. It didn’t look like it was going to get much farther than that, so they didn’t bother. They just clung to each other scandalously in the almost-darkness, missing something.

In the morning, they woke up on the grass just outside the woods. Ian woke up face down and his cheeks were marked by the blades of grass, some of them getting into his mouth. His arm was splayed across James’ chest. Speaking of James, he was still passed out. He felt so bad about the hangover that James was about to have when he woke up.

James stirred, groaning.

“What do you remember from last night?”

“Could you not speak so fucking loud?” James hissed, screwing his eyes shut. 

“Do you remember everything?”

“Can we talk about this at another time, perhaps? Please?” His hands now pressed against his pulsing temples.

Ian kept prodding at him with questions, and James was in no mood.

“ _Yes_ , for fuck’s sake. Everything after we left the party is crystal fucking clear.” James flipped over, lying on the ground with his face away from the sun. “Now if you could just do me a favor and leave me here to die, that'd be nice.”

Ian wordlessly laid a hand on James’ forearm, teleporting them to Ian's temple on Olympus. He made sure that James appeared lying on his bed, with Ian standing next to him. (It was important to concentrate while teleporting. Careless teleportation usually led to getting stuck inside walls and phasing through inanimate objects. All gods had been through that experience at least once.)

James groaned out in pain once more. Teleporting while hungover was never a good idea. He felt even more queasy and horrible than before, which was previously thought to be impossible. “ _Why_ ,” James suffered.

“Sorry,” Ian apologized. He wanted to start asking him things again, but decided against it. “I'll leave you alone.”

“Thank fuck.”

They could talk later. After all, time was the one thing they had too much of.

###### 

The talking was never clear. He realized that James wanted something that Ian didn't want to give him: commitment.

“Why don’t you try kissing me when you’re not drunk?”

“James…” Ian wanted to spare him the heartbreak, but that seemed inevitable. James was insistent, and it was getting on Ian’s nerves. He was fed up with it.

If James really wanted that so much, then Ian might as well give it to him.

He pressed himself against James, pushing his lips against his feverishly. It felt almost as if they were both molded together, but it was still missing something. When Ian pulled away, James was in a daze.

“Gods, I shouldn’t have done that,” Ian muttered, reprimanding himself. He separated himself from James.

“No, it’s,” James started. Fine? It wasn’t fine, not really. 

“Look,” Ian sighed. He took a second to collect his thoughts and say everything that needed to be said at that moment. “I don’t want to take advantage of your feelings for me. Obviously, you have them, but you’ll get over it.”

“Oh,” James said quietly, in such a way that made Ian’s heart clench.

“I’m sorry for leading you on, but I don’t have those feelings for you.” Ian just wanted to bury himself and become one with the dirt.

James looked like he wanted to say something, but he didn’t. He looked away, pressing his lips together in a tight line and nodding. Ian understood and he felt horrible. He pulled James in for a hug. James reciprocated by burying his head in Ian’s chest, clutching at the fabric of Ian’s shirt with a tight fist.

“I’m not crying,” James said probably while crying.

“That’s okay.”

Long story short, it was awkward for five years, until it eventually wasn’t and they were able to become sworn enemies again.

Things certainly changed when Ian became Hades, though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> James was no less than shocked to find out that Ian had become an even bigger grump than himself over time.

**Author's Note:**

> Remember to leave a comment or a like!!! My self-worth depends on your validation! Please.
> 
> I am a very lonely and sad person.
> 
> Still, I've had fun writing this! welcome to the fam ♥


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